


Hope

by jamestkirk



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Spoilers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamestkirk/pseuds/jamestkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The definition of the thing is this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> written for a [tumblr prompt](http://darthvcder.tumblr.com/post/135572224478/either-14-33-or-49-ur-newest-trash-ship-the) from one of my friends. the prompt was, simply, "hope". 
> 
> i've been in this fandom pretty much since birth, but this is my first time writing anything for it. nor is it really my main fandom. as you can probably tell from my handle lmao. so tell me how i did?

FN-2187 first feels it when he hears the whispers through the ranks of a Stormtrooper that left. And _made it_. To him, it’s is only a four letter word, something to be felt by others. _People_ , not numbers. The hard voice of Zeroes fades into the distance, a ringing in his ears and the lightness of clouds in his chest. Freedom. It’s possible, and the proof is right in front of him. 

It takes him longer than it should to figure out that the feeling is hope. But he does. He does. One look at the blazing inferno of determination in Poe Dameron’s eyes and he recognizes the feeling. _They’re going to survive this_. He’s sure he’d believe almost anything Dameron tells him, a thought that should be disquieting but instead makes his heart race and a giant grin light up his face.

The embers of it still burn after they crash, Poe’s jacket held over his head like a battle flag. He’d only known the man for a couple of hours, but he feels like he owes him this. Poe would’ve kept going and so will he. He’s all Finn has to base his identity off of, anyway.

That same spirit lives in Rey’s eyes; he can tell. Those slow burning embers ignite into flame again, burning bright in his chest. _Hope_. It feels good, thinking that word. It feels even better, knowing that she’s it. Determined as he is to flee, and flee _far_ , she leaves the hope that maybe things can change. That one day, one day he might not have to run.

BB-8 nearly knocking him over in excitement was never really a likely candidate for inspiring the feeling, but it’s there. This time, it makes his stomach twist and his breath freeze somewhere in his throat. Poe Dameron is alive. Before he has time to tell himself anything about dignity or pride, his feet have carried him over, crashing into the pilot in an embrace. A heartbeat thuds against his chest, breath warm against the side of his face. So very, very alive. There’s a new feeling, stronger than the relief coursing through his veins or the fire in his chest, one he doesn’t know he’ll ever have the name for.

* * *

Until, of course, he does. The definition of the thing is this: the warm smile that greets him as he claws his way back from death, the weight of a calloused hand on his shoulder, ringing laughter as they sit in the mess, softening eyes as Finn talks about things he’s never told anyone before. And this, it’s this. Morning light spilling over the side of Poe’s jaw; a sprawl of limbs and hair, Finn curled around him, head tucked against the side of his neck. It’s this.


End file.
